erected on the hill where now the Register House stands, and a fourth at Heriot's Hospital, in rear of which Captain Brown planted his mortars, from which he shot eighteen great bombs on the 6th of April. The battery at the Highrigs breached the western wall near the postern, but the steep nature of the rock rendered an assault impracticable. On Sunday, the 19th of May, another great battery of cannon and mortars opened on the western walls and citadel. The bombs were thrown in pairs; but all went over the castle, split on the parapets, or fell into the Portsburgh, to the consternation of the inhabitants.

On the 20th of May there was a severe storm of snow; on the faces of the inner rock it fell two feet deep, and the soldiers industriously saved it for water, regardless of the incessant bombs, with their showers of splinters, which were their greatest source of dread and peril. On the 21st, sixteen fell into the fortress; one burst under the chapel stair, blew up the stone steps, and hurled them on the soldiers.

The duke after this kept all those men who were not working the cannon in the southern vaults; but after a time they learned to avoid their troublesome visitors by posting a sentinel on a lofty place; thus, when a bomb was seen to soar in the air, all lay prostrate under the parapets, till it could burst behind them.

Every building in the place was roofless by the 22nd, "and the poor soldiers were half-naked," yet they stood bravely by their guns, though the snow lay almost knee-deep in the shattered bastions; and while labouring under a severe fever, the gallant duke, by his presence and exhortations in King James's cause, kept their enthusiasm alive. A soldier's wife being taken in labour on the 23rd, the duke beat a parley to request medical assistance, which was inhumanly refused.

On that night there fell into the castle twenty bombs. One burst in the magazine; another in the Registry, among the State Records; and two broke a brass gun. Two days later saw the upper chambers of the palace or royal lodging defaced, the balcony beaten down, and the church on the north of the Grand Parade so utterly ruined that on Sunday the chaplain had to read his sermon in the vaults; and at ten o'clock on the morning of the 31st, Sir John Lanier began to intrench his troops near the halfmoon, but under a rattling fire of musketry.

The 4th of June saw the besiegers shooting showers of hand-grenades from their mortars; and these proved so destructive that Colonel Winram, of the Guards, proposed a sally, to which the duke objected, urging the smallness of their force. On

the following day he destroyed four guns on their batteries, and breached the wall of St. Cuthbert's Church, which the enemy's pickets then abandoned, leaving half their number killed or wounded; but now into the castle the bombs fell faster than ever. "The scarcity of food and water, together with the incessant hardships they endured, by exposure among the the open ruins in weather so singularly inclement for the season, soon made the little garrison sickly, and their courage began to sink. Mr. John Grant, a volunteer, went out in the night to discover if there was any hope of relief, and two days after he signalled from the Long Gate, "None!" On the 6th the brave young Laird of Midstrath again sallied out in the night; and with only six men, by sheer dint of sword and dirk, drove the whole guard from the trench on the castle hill."

According to the "Journal of the Siege," matters were now becoming serious with Gordon and his officers. So great were their losses that there were scarcely men left to relieve the sentinels, and still less to man the numerous breaches that now yawned in the outer walls. Those soldiers "who were best able to endure hardship" stood sentinel from ten at night till three in the morning, and were regularly, during the whole time, employed in "ditching, securing, raising, and removing batteries, working the guns, &c."

The North Loch, at the base of the rock, was now drained for the purpose of drying up the last remaining well; but the latter still retained a few feet of putrid and unwholesome liquid. For ten consecutive days this handful of brave fellows, environed as they were by a regular British army, subsisted on dry bread and salt herrings eaten raw, for they were now without other food, and the snow yet covered all the ruins. Their ammunition was nearly expended; and the duke, despairing of relief from King James in Ireland, beat a parley.

On the evening of the 11th of June, at six o'clock, the Union Jack was lowered on the half-moon, and a white flag ascended slowly in its place. On this Sir John Lanier sent up Major Somerville and another officer to confer with the duke, who met them at the edge of the ditch. "He was dressed in his scarlet uniform, as an officer of King James VII., and wore the Order of the Thistle. He desired to capitulate."

The major returned after a time with Sir John Lanier, Richard Savage, Lord Colchester, and Colonel Balfour of the Scots Brigade, who all demanded hostages for the due fulfilment of any articles agreed upon. While they were arranging these, a message came from the Duke of Hamilton,

to the effect that "they were neither to give nor take hostages." The treaty ended abruptly on this, and once again the cannonading was resumed. The parley was renewed on the following day, and during the interim Mr. John Grant rejoined the garrison, on which Sir John Lanier threatened to break off all negotiations, as this was contrary to the usage of war. Major Somerville, now peremptorily requested the duke to meet Sir John Lanier midway between the castle and city, adding that Lanier "would not break his word for six times the value of the castle of Edinburgh."

"Sir," said Ensign Winchester, sternly, "he has broken his word and his oath to a better man than any here among us."

Stung by the taunt, the major retired, storming, and swearing that he would have every man, woman, and child in the place put to the sword; and, as an earnest of what might ensue, that night a Lieutenant Hay and a woman were hanged in the trenches, for sending the duke some intelligence.

Gordon now became excited, and in turn proposed to Colonel Winram to sally forth sword in hand in the night, cut a passage through Lanier's lines, seize boats, and cross the North Loch, which the melting snows had again filled; but the proposal was abandoned as too desperate. That evening he informed his soldiers, that as he had neither hope of mercy nor capitulation, all who were afraid might depart by the postern.

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a gun-port; but many were weltering in their blood behind the woolpacks and in the trenches, where the number of slain amounted to 500 men.

The duke, whose health was now most seriously impaired, at daybreak on the 13th of June again replaced the Union by a white flag, and sent to the general commanding a paper entitled, "Seven Articles of Surrender for the Castle of Edinburgh.” These were as follows:

"I. Colonel Winram, the lieutenant-governor, will submit himself to King William's pleasure, his life being spared. The rest of the garrison shall have their lives, liberties, fortunes, and passports.

"II. They shall march out with sword and baggage.

"III. All gentlemen volunteers and others to have the same terms.

"IV. All persons who have corresponded with, or have aided the garrison, but have not been in arms, shall have the full benefit of the first article. "V. All sick soldiers to have liberty to go where they choose.

"VI. All officers and gentlemen shall have the benefits of other lieges, they living peaceably.

"VII. Immediately after the garrison receive security for the performance of these articles, a considerable portion of the walls shall be put in possession of General Lanier's troops."

Lord Colchester appeared about three in the afternoon at the steps which then led to the outer

When midnight came near, a column of infantry crept up the north side of the castle hill; but a fire of musketry from the south angle of the tête-du-pont drove them down in disorder to the margin of the loch which occupied the hollow where now the Prince's Street Gardens lie, though their officers were seen to brandish their swords, and heard to cry angrily

"Advance, you dogs! advance!"

The same column advanced again next morning, and made a lodgment across the castle hill, by laying before them a most effective breastwork of woolpacks. There were only nineteen men on the lower parapet at this time, yet they poured on them a fire that proved very destructive, all the while singing merrily in chorus

"The king shall enjoy his ain again." During the whole of that day and night, the firing was maintained on both sides with great determination, and only slackened at about two in the morning. In the castle only one man was killed, a gunner, whom a cannon-ball cut in two, through

received from him eight other articles proposed by Sir John Lanier, which were most disadvantageous. They were both to become prisoners of war; but ultimately it was arranged that the soldiers should be free, and that the lieutenant-governor should have his life and estates secured.

The articles were signed by ten o'clock; and in the dark Major Somerville, at the head of 200 infantry, took possession of all the posts, except the gate of the citadel, the great hall, and the Grand Parade, where the duke drew up his little band, consisting now of only fifty officers and men, to return them thanks for their valour and faithful service.

"Gentlemen and soldiers," said he, "I know not wherein I have been unkind to any of you; but if I have ever wronged any man in your ranks, let him speak ere we part for ever. Do not brawl with the new comers, for you are too few to conquer, and too many to sacrifice."

He gave each a small sum to convey him home; and as he shook hands with them all, "there was not an eye unmoistened in all that forlorn company."

Sir John Lanier took possession of the gates on the 14th of June, and the duke marched out at

THE next great battle in British history was fought in Scotland, and unhappily it was not fated to be the last in that stormy and divided kingdom. The Revolution of 1688, which placed William of Orange on the throne of these kingdoms, was opposed in Scotland by a great and powerful party, especially by the majority of the Highland chiefs and their clans. The event, which had been brought about in the Lowlands by a selfelected Convention of the Estates, at once summoned certain of their leaders to attempt the restoration of their old hereditary line of kings, as their fathers had done under the great Montrose. Their new commander was not a Highlander, yet he won the confidence of the clans, as being a cadet of the house of the illustrious marquis. He had marched to London with the Scottish forces, which, horse, foot, guards, and artillery, all deserted, as their English comrades did, to the invader; King James had then made him a peer of Scotland, by the title of Viscount Dundee; but he was still remembered in the Lowlands as "the bloody Claverhouse." It should be borne in mind that the officers of the Scottish standing forces took an oath of fealty, not to the reigning sovereign, but to the Estates of Scotland, at this time and till 1707.

The friends of King James did not exhibit in his cause the fiery zeal and romantic enthusiasm which inspired the handsome Dundee, who met with hourly disgusts. Some of the Highland chiefs and nobles had gone over to the Revolutionary party; others had retired to their country seats, to watch the course of events; and very few resolved to join the viscount, who made so little a secret of his purpose that in the spring of 1689 the Convention, which he detested, and whose legal authority he denounced, sent a party of horse to seize him and the Earl of Balcarris. The latter was taken, but Dundee found shelter in the Highlands, where none dared to follow him.

He was thus compelled for his own safety, as well as for King James's cause, to commence hostilities. With his troop of faithful Cavaliers, he continued to wander from place to place in the Highlands, then remote and all but inaccessible to strangers, until the beginning of May, when he appeared at the head of 2,000 clansmen, led by Sir Donald Macdonald, and the chiefs of Glengarry, Maclean, Lochiel, and Clanranald-all names

which in Scotland are ever associated with a glorious past, and with the purest ideas of loyalty, chivalry, and valour. He had about 120 horse, who were commanded by Sir William Wallace, a brave Cavalier; and every member of this little troop was a gentleman. The army he led, says Dalrymple, was chiefly composed of Highlanders, "a people untouched by the Roman or Saxon invasions on the east or west skirts of their country-the unmixed remains of that Celtic empire which once stretched from the Pillars of Hercules to Archangel."

Lieutenant-General Hugh Mackay, of Scourie, now commander-in-chief of the Scottish forces, colonelcommandant of the Scots Brigade, and Privy Councillor of Scotland, marched against him with 5,000 infantry and a considerable force of cavalry. Neither the tidings that a force so overwhelming was coming, the recent fall of Edinburgh Castle, nor the disappointment of assistance from Ireland, which King James had promised, damped the heroic ardour of Dundee, though deficiency of provisions frequently had compelled him to shift his quarters; and his devoted followers, who served without pay, endured without a murmur the greatest privations. Like his predecessor and prototype, Montrose, and like Charles Edward in the war of future years, he was eminently calculated to be a leader of Scottish Highlanders. In his buff coat and head-piece, he generally marched on foot, now by the side of one clan, and anon by the ranks of another, addressing the soldiers in their native Gaelic, flattering their long genealogies, and animating their proud rivalry by reciting the deeds of their forefathers and the stirring verses of their ancient bards.

"My maxim has been," said he to one of his officers, "that no general should command an irregular army in the field without becoming acquainted with every man in it.”

Hence his lofty courage, his winning manner, and the wonderful manly beauty of his face and person, caused him to be idolised by his followers.

On the 27th of June, 1689, he marched to the celebrated Pass of Killycrankie, which lies fifteen miles north of the town of Dunkeld, where the dark and lofty mountains of Athole rise abruptly and precipitously on both sides of the narrow vale of the Garry. In those days it was traversed by an old Fingalian war-path, so narrow that two men could scarce move abreast, and it lay so close to the